


Getaway (Car)

by OperaGoose



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Youtubers, Blind Noctis, Disabled Character, Except it's called MoogleTube, Is Prompto A Hipster?, M/M, Mentioned terrorist attack, Multi, Prompto With Glasses, Roadtrip, Umbra - Freeform, Work In Progress, endgame ot4, everyone is a youtuber, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-07 05:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13427424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OperaGoose/pseuds/OperaGoose
Summary: Dino Ghiranze, the biggest producer on MoogleTube, hires four young MoogleTubers to recreate the Argentum PhotoEpic. The Argentum VideoEpic, a 24/7 Livestreaming Experience will follow Noctis Caelum, Ignis Flauret, Gladiolus Amicitia and Prompto Aurum on a journey through-out Lucis.  Part fishing show, part cooking show, part survival show, part travel guide, how will four strangers grow and change on a journey with their lives livestreamed for the world to see?





	1. One Photographer

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [King of My Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12926598) by [OperaGoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OperaGoose/pseuds/OperaGoose). 



> Set in the same universe as King of My Heart, but much later down the timeline. You don't need to read the first for it to really make sense, but some things mentioned won't make sense to you without reading that first.
> 
> Rating may go up, I have no idea yet.

Prompto Aurum hated this town. If you could even call it that. It was more like a pit stop to literally anywhere else. ‘Hammerhead’ – after the big shark head that hung over the few buildings. There wasn’t much. The diner everyone ate at; the gas station and general store; and his Uncle Cid’s repair shop. 

Prom and his sister had been helping out at the repair shop since they were old enough to hold a wrench. Now they were adults, Cidney practically ran the place under Uncle Cid and he... was generally useless. 

He picked up money here and there, doing odd jobs. Grocery runs for Takka, helping out the general store, pumping gas for city-folk that never got their hands clean, and forever repairing the air conditioning units that busted down under the constant use. When they got bikes in, they usually left them to him – since he worked them over better than either his sister or uncle. After he turned sixteen, he joined the Meldaccio as a rank one hunter and could do some small hunts for gil. Nothing serious or difficult. 

He’d been home-schooled, like Cidney – and after they got their GEDs, he’d gotten an engineering degree by correspondence from Yaeger University. The internet here was shit, but at sixteen it had become his lifeline. 

He was an almost-celebrity on the Internet. It had started at fifteen, when the town had pitched in to buy a digicam. The other four locals had quickly gotten bored of it and it all but officially belonged solely to him. 

He started with stills of the landscape, too shy to include himself in anything. But at sixteen, when he’d been rejected by the Meldaccio for his weight and general unfitness, he’d started recording his journey of physical tranformation. 

He’s made his first and only proper friend from the MoogleTube community. ‘Gladio-Camper’, aka Gladiolus Amicitia. Gladio’s work was all fitness, and survival techniques, and nature hikes. He was from LEstallum but he’d made a few trips across the country to visit Prom and camp in North Leide. 

Their most popular video was the week they had spent exploring the ruins of Insomnia. They discovered they were both old refugees from Insomnia – some of the few that managed to escape before the Solheim attacks that turned the city to rubble and ash, and the purges that came afterward. 

His earliest memories were of the radio reports, clinging to his sister – both of them stinking of ash. Insomnia Sleeps At Last. Uncle Cid – not even their real uncle, but who else could he be after all he’d done for them? – had sheltered them as the Solheim Troopers stormed the countryside searching for escapees. Their parents were killed, and so were hundreds of other adults. Only Insomnian children were allowed to live, their brains the most pliable to propoganda. 

The occupation only lasted two years before Lucians took their country back. But Insomnia was never rebuilt. Too much money and manpower for the fledgling government could spare. 

They recorded their adventure, exploring the ruins and tracing old maps. It had been remoogled by the official government channel and they had received a tonne of new followers each, 

A digicam company had sent them each brand new models of the latest amateur digicams. Gladio had gone back to Lestallum, and Prom had gone back to landscape stills and progress vids of his fitness. Once he was fighting fit and part of the Meldaccio, his progress vids had stopped. He had a daily ‘VLOG’ for a while, but he only updated sporadically these days. Nothing _happened_ in this place, what was he supposed to VLOG about? A couple times, when they got biks in, he filmed himself disassembling and rebuilding them in working order.

So on he lived. Bored, restless, broke and lonely. 

... 

“Prom!” Cidney called up the stairs, banging on the metal wall. “Come down!” 

He sighed and saved his editing progress. Maybe they had a convoy, or the air con at Takka’s had broken down. He put a shirt on – sleeves cut off because he might as well show off the guns he worked so hard on. That, and it was too _hot_ outside for sleeves. 

Cidney was tinkering with a new car – something new and fancy. Not the usual crowd they had out this way. He whistled, impressed. “ _Nice_. Did it actually break down or you convince them to let you tinker?” 

She only grinned. “Some guy from the Quay’s waiting to talk to you. I sent him to Takka’s for a feed.” 

He gave her a lazy salute, and went to get his Meldaccio-issued pistol. It was sitting on the workbench where Uncle Cid had been tinkering with it in his semi-retired boredom. He shoved it in his thigh holster and stepped out of the cool shade of the repair shop. 

Prom chuckled fondly as he spotted his uncle snoozing in the sunlounge. He pulled the umbrella to shade him better and crossed the burning tarmac to the diner. 

Takka was making tomato soup, he could smell it in the air as soon as he pulled the door open. Half would stay tomato, served up with grilled cheese for Friday night’s special. The other half would go into Takka’s special chilli con carne – the daily stable. Prom had it for lunch every day. 

The air was cooler in here, but the unit was definitely on its way out. He’d have a tinker after he spoke to whoever he was here to see. 

There was only one person in the room. A strange blond guy way overdressed for the weather. Nobody wore _ties_ , but even this guy had it hnging loose out of his collar. He waved eagerly as soon as he spotted Prom. “Hey! Quicksilver! Over here!” As if there was anyone else to see here. 

Quicksilver was his Moogle handle. The guy spoke in a Quay accent, no wonder he was dressed so fancy. He probably worked at the resort there. 

“Hey,” he greeted, sliding into the booth across from the stranger. “Prompto Aurum,” he offered, sticking out his hand for a shake. 

“Yo. I’m Dino. Dino Ghiranze. _DiamondDino_.” The last part was his own handle. 

Prom had heard of him. Everyone on MoogleTube had. He was a producer – some of the best series were funded by him. 

“Good to meet you,” Prom replied, nodding absently. “You come all this way just to see lil’ ol’ me?” 

He hadn’t exactly caught Cid’s accent – not as strongly as Cidney anyway, he was a few years older and had been talking for a few more years than she had when they’d moved here. But it did slip out occasionally. 

“Got it in one.” DiamondDino grinned at him. 

Takka stuck his head out of the kitchen and hollared to Prom to ask if he wanted lunch now. Prom yelled back a ‘yeah’, though it was an hour early for lunch time. 

Then he pushed up the thick frames of his glasses and looked back at DiamondDino. “So... how can I help you?” 

He grinned. “It ain’t about what you can do for me, but what _I_ can do for you!” 

“Right,” Prom replied, and waited for him to go on. 

Takka brought over their food – a jambalaya and glass of mik for DiamondDino, and Prom’s chilli. But they had to _wait_ while the stranger took a digistill and posted it on Promptagram. 

“So I got this big project I’m putting together,” he continued, shoving a spoonful of jambalaya into his mouth. Prom waited patiently as he choked on the spice, pushing the glass of milk over. 

He ate his chilli as he waited for him to recover, then prompted: “what’s your project?” 

DiamondDino put down his spoon to gesture around with his hands. “We’re calling it the Argentum VideoEpic!” 

He swallowed a mouthful of food. “After that digistill album thing of the Chosen King myth?” 

“Bingo!” DiamondDino confirmed. “A livestreaming experience of the ages! 24 hhours a day adventuring around Lucis. A survivalist, a cook, a fisherman and a photographer. And _you_ fit perfectly.” 

He knew the first three and that he definitely wasn’t any of them. So he must supposed to be, “what’s a photographer?” 

“It’s an archaic term for someone who takes digistills,” DiamondDino answered, waving his hand dismissively. "I saw your digivid with Gladio-Camper and knew that yous would be perfect for it!” 

Okay, Prompto thought, sitting back from his empty bowl. It made sense now. They didn’t want _him_ , they wanted the Insomnia thing. “Alright,” he drawled. “Well, did Gladio agree yet?” 

He looked eager. “Lestallum is my next stop along the way. I reckon if you were signed on to the project it’d be a good selling point to get him on board.” 

Right... He shrugged lazily. “I’m in. Tell me more about it.”


	2. One Fisherman

Noctis was still awake as the sky began to grow faintly lighter. Umbra snuffled at his hand and he lightly ruffled the soft pointed ears before getting out of bed. He grabbed his coat and his digicam, draping them over his body loosely. The house was quiet as he stepped outside, grabbing his tacklebox from under the porch stairs. 

The sun was just peeking above the distant horizon when he cast his line out, slicing warmth through the icy dawn air. Between yawns, he watched the water, felt the subtle changes of the water through the rod. He didn’t bother saying anything to the digicam as he streamed. It wasn’t his style. Umbra yawned and circled a few times, his nails scritching across the planks of the pier before he settled down with a deep, tired huff. 

The cam booped occasionally as people logged on, or liked, or commented. Different noises, but he tuned them all out. It was just him and the fishing spot. 

He stopped when he got too tired, slinging the strings with his catches over his shoulder before heading back to the crab pot. Umbra snuffed at the pots and gave a low whine in his throat – fighting against his natural instincts to hunt and eat. Thousands of years ago, they said that crabs were giant – the size of a man but larger. He doubted that, they were barely bigger than his hands now. 

He sold all but one fish to the trucker at the end of the path. He left the last one sealed in the fridge. Then he crawled into bed and slept until he woke up again. 

But he didn’t get to stay asleep as he liked. He woke up to Umbra’s warning barks – someone was approaching the house, who he didn’t recognise. Noct hoped they’d go away, but the shrill screech of his doorbell destroyed that hope. He muttered in protest and slipped his feet out of bed. His guardians wouldn’t be home at this time of day so he had to answer it himself. 

Umbra barked at the door just as Noct opened it, but he knew better than to misbehave once the door was open. “May I help you?” He asked suspiciously. 

“Noct-and-Umbra?” The voice was familiar, accented in a Western accent. “It’s me, DiamondDino.” 

Right. They’d had a digicall. “Come in.” He stroked Umbra’s ears to signal it was safe. He let Dino inside, walking towards the sitting area. He sunk into an armchair, and Umbra sat between his feet. 

“Have you put any more thought into my proposal?” Dino asked, the frame of the lounge groaning as he sunk into it. 

Noct leaned on his hand, looking towards the open window, the brightness piercing the dark of the room. “I’ve already given you my answer, DiamondDino.” 

“See, that’s the thing. I don’t buy it.” 

Noctis frowned, flicking his eyes in his direction of the MoogleTube producer. “I can’t even see your face, dude,” he said impatiently. “My whole day is thrown off if a branch has fallen on my usual path. How do you expect me to go _adventuring_?” 

When Dino spoke again, there was a smug kind of smile in his voice. “Have you ever heard of Ignis Scientia?” He asked. 

“No,” he deadpanned. 

“He was part of the original Argentum PhotoEpic,” Dino explained. “He had no vision, and he fought daemons and the empire. I believe you’re more than capable of taking this journey.” 

Noct scowled, and he felt Umbra tense at his feet from his own tension. He softly scratched the soft ears. “It’s safe here,” he replied, “I know my way around. I make my living. My parents take care of the house.” 

“Is that all you want out of life, Noctis?” DiamondDino asked, his voice serious. “To fish forever at the same fishing hole, relying on your parents until they die? Don’t you want to go out and _explore_?” 

Noctis was silent for a long moment. “Who else have you got involved?" 

… 

When Noctis’s family had fled the city of Insomnia, the car they had been travelling in was forced off the road. The damage to his eyes had been ‘irreparable’, but the Lestallum doctors had done what they can. 

He could hardly see anything. Most of his world was light in different colours and brightness. When the purges had started spreading across the country, his parents had taken him and fled to the Caem Lighthouse. There was a small farm high up on the Cape, and they’d hidden under the floorboards and pretended the house was unoccupied when the search teams came. 

Learning the new world was hard, a world of scents and sounds and subtle vibrations. When he was sixteen, they got him Umbra to help him learn more independence. Last year, his parents had spent all their savings on an elaborate set of MoogleGoggles. 

He couldn’t use them much, but when he did it was like magic. They sat on his face just like a pair of glasses, but the frame and the arms were electronically designed so that they tricked his occipital lobe thought it was seeing the image on the lenses in his eyes. 

MoogleTube had been a blessing to his teenage self. He could see the world he’d never get to see himself. Watched some guys his age explore the ruins of a city he’d been born in and forced to flee. His favourite MoogleTuber was a guy called Cooking-Fire, a Tennebrae guy, similar in his age, who made all sorts of amazing recipes. The way he explained things… Noctis could almost taste them just from his words. 

His own career had been accidental. He’d had his own account, of course, to subscribe to channels and like digivids. Umbra had got hold of his MoogleGoggles, and when he’d been getting them back, he’d accidentally pressed record. The small video of him playing with his dog had _exploded_ with popularity. It was featured up there on the Popular Animal Videos, along with one about a chocobo stealing some hiker’s sunglasses. 

So he’d sold his ad revenue to Moogle in exchange for a digicam, and started livestreaming daily: his fishing trips, but mostly Umbra hanging around wherever he went. People _loved_ Umbra, and they seemed to like him too. 

But he’d never dreamed something like this would happen. Why Dino Ghiranze wanted _him_ he’d never exactly know. But he’d agreed, and signed a verbal contract with the Diamond Productions. He and Umbra would be part of this VideoEpic, whatever that was supposed to be. All he had to do was _fish_ apparently, and how could he argue with that? 

So here he was, in a _limo_ driving across the coastline to reach Galdin Quay. He had the digicam on, with a ‘Mystery Journey, New Project!’ title, but it was mostly focused on Umbra in the footwell, as he climbed up to stick his head out the window and pant happily in the wind. 

DiamondDino was on the other side of the seat, chatting away in a digicall. But his accent was too strong, his speech to fast, for Noct to really make out what he was saying. Arranging someone to meet some guy called Flauret at the ferry at Galdin Quay. 

He leaned his head against the window frame, the breeze gusting across his face and pushing hair out of his eyes. Umbra rested his head on his knee and he smiled, gently stroking his eyes. 

He should think on the bright side. He could visit _every_ fishing spot in the country and not stop until he’d caught every kind of fish they had. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.


	3. One Chef

The air itself tasted different here. In Tennebrae, the air was always sweet and fresh: frost and the icy mist from the falls and, eight months a year, the scent of fields and fields of white and purple sylleblossoms. Two thousand years ag they bloomed blue, if the digistills and tapestries were to be believed. A thousand years ago, they believed the flowers were lost forever – but they found sylleblossoms in the sunken city of Altissia and the labs at Besithia University managed to cross-polinate until the flowers – or at least, a reasonable facsimile – bloomed across the country again. 

The salty air – spiced with fish and sweat and cooking oil – was something new. When he’d been forced to flee Insomnia as a refugee, the taste of ash and death choking his throat, he'd been one of the few to escape by airship. 

Ignis couldn’t remember his _birth_ parents. His father, Sir Ravus Flauret had told him – with all the gentle seriousness that personified his parenting – that they had died in Insomnia. 

He grew up in the ancient Fenestala Manor, with his father and Aunt Lunafreya Ulric. He saw little of his uncle, who was part of the Ghaladian army. 

His education had been thorough – and at age seventeen he’d graduated from the local branch of Besithia University with a doctorate in political science. He supposed he was primed to take after his father in the Tennebrae House of Lords. But, though he excelled through university and graduated top of the class, he’d never given politics much personal interest. 

Instead, he’d started a MoogleTube channel, teaching viewers to cook his family recipes. But the more he’d cooked and tasted and tweaked, the more his skill had developed elsewhere. 

If musicians had perfect pitch, then Ignis had perfect taste. A taste of something opened up a world on the tip of his tongue – all the ingredients coming to him like ghosts behind his eyes. 

His channel shifted from old family recipes, to trying local cuisine and creating and teaching new recipes to mimic the dish. He’d published a digibook of recipes ‘The Taste of Tennebrae’ that was on the bestseller’s list before it had officially released. 

But eventually, he’d run out of local foods to explore. But he wouldn’t take his family’s money, and his ad revenue and digibook sales didn’t make him enough to travel. 

As DiamondDino’s last reality series ended, Ignis had approached him with his idea: a travel/cooking show, where he would try local cuisine, and teach his viewers how to cook it for himself. DiamondDino had been intrigued with the notion and promised to consider it. 

Two days later the producer had digicalled him with his own proposal. His idea, but _more_. Styled after the legendary PhotoEpic of Lucis’s Argentum, but transferred to a more modern and accessible format. Knowing it was the best he would get, all that was left for Ignis to do was negotiate the terms of his contract and wait for Dino Ghiranze to line up his co-stars. 

He arrived at Galdin Quay, being treated to luxury accomodation and some utterly delightful seafood as he awaited the arrival of his three travel companions. 

Dino opened the conference room, and a slightly younger man stepped in uncertainly, a dark-furred dog harnessed at his side. ‘Noctis-and-Umbra’, he would guess from Dino’s previous brainstorming. Ignis raised his eyebrows at Dino and stood, offering his hand out to greet him. “You must be Umbra.” 

The producer silently face-palmed behind the newcomer. He slid his eyes away from the window and Ignis found himself staring. He was handsome, and his eyes had once been the crisp blue of an evening sky slowly darkening to night. But now…

One eye was badly scarred over, only a sliver of white and blue under a permanently lowered lid. The other was open, but the pupil was dilated strangely, with a milky hue underneath. 

“He’s Umbra,” evidentally _Noctis_ explained, poining at the patiently standing dog. His _seeing eye dog_ “I’m Noctis.” And then he offered his hand out to shake, inches away from where Ignis’s own hung awkwardly in the air. Feeling embarrassed, he took the hand slowly and carefully, and gave it a firm shake. “Ignis.” 

“Ignis Flauret. I know. I like your channel.” 

”Thank you.” 

“Noctis is our fisherman,” Dino explained, helping the blind man to sit down in a chair. 

Noctis let his dog off the harness, and Umbra began to sniff around everything, before settling by the door to lie down and pant. 

“When do the other two arrive?” Ignis asked, turning his attention back to Dino. 

“We’ll be meeting them,” the producer explained. “Our photographer, Prompto Aurum, lives near the departure point – and Gladiolus Amicitia will meet us on sight.” 

The names meant nothing to him. “When do we leave?” 

… 

Leide was hot. Worse than the peppers that grew in the North summers of Tennebrae. Underneath the silk of his shirt, his skin was slicked with sweat. He was tempted to fold his sleeves up to his elbows, but he intended to make a good impression on his co-star. 

The limo’s climate control must be failing, it was sweltering in there. Noctis was fast asleep, his dog dozing lazily with his head on the clothed knee. 

The limo pulled into a small gas station. Were they low on fuel? But Dino grinned and unbuckled his safety belt. “First stop! Time for lunch?” 

Outside the window, a barely-dressed teenager stepped out of the repair garage to investigate their arrival. He kept his expresson blank of his disapproval. It was the middle of a desert, what use could she have for a bikini out here? She quickly headed back inside, calling for something. 

At that moment, Dino opened the door. Ignis realised with horror that he'd been wrong. The car’s air _had_ been conditioned. 

But the heat outside was so oppressive, so relentless, the climate control had obviously been unable to keep up. Who would _live_ here, willingly? He did, in fact, roll up his sleeves – and unbuttoned his collar just a little bit too. 

Dino woke Noctis, who let Umbra out first to assist him. But the dog only sniffed the air and gave an uncertain whine. 

“The diner is over there,” Dino explained. 

Ignis frowned unhappily. It was across an unshaded expanse of hot cement – it _shimmered_ with rising heat. “It may not be wise,” he commented. “Umbra’s paws might burn.” Not that he particularly cared for the comfort of the dog, but any excuse to avoid leaving the shade. 

Still, Noctis hummed gratefully. “Some children’s socks or bandages will do.” 

These were purchased at the general store within minutes, and though Ignis was grateful for the brief reprieve of the industrial-strength climate control, he regretted how quickly it went by and they were now forced to go across to the diner. 

When he stepped in, he almost wanted to cry. The climate control wasn’t working, and the lingering bearable air was seeping away to leave air hotter than Ifrit’s armpits. 

He sat down and laid his head against the cool tabletop. Once Noctis was sat down comfortably, he let Umbra off the harness. The dog immediately rushed off to sniff and explore the room, disappearing out of sight behind the counter. 

The owner, Takka he guessed, came over to get their order. While he was penciling down drink orders, there was a low groan and then the air climate control came to life. Within moments it was blowing blissfully cold air. 

There was movement by the door to the kitchen. A small, delighted laugh followed. “Umbra!” He glanced over, to see a short, blond-haired man coming out. How could he stand to wear _leather_ , even if there were no sleeves on his vest. “Boy, you’re wearing your vest, I shouldn’t pat you.” 

Noctis’s head turned towards the noise. “It’s okay,” he called. “He’s off his harness. You can play.” 

The blond did for a few moments, and then came around the corner with the dog trailing beside him. And he was wearing _full length pants_. Did he _want_ to die of sunstroke? 

“Hey, Noctis,” Prompto greeted, his dazzling smile unnecessary. “I’m Prompto, Quicksilver online.” He gently touched Noctis’s arm, guiding it to shake his other hand. A soft gasp escaped Noctis’s lips, but he didn’t speak, shaking the hand firmly. 

“Quicksilver, this is Cooking-Fire, Ignis Flauret. You know Noctis-and-Umbra obviously.” 

Prompto grinned and shook Ignis’s hand too. He was momentarily dazzled. The photographer was pale-skinned, but his skin was covered in freckles. Too many to count. But he was like a burst of midday sunlight, like the taste of heat and sand and sundried tomatoes. 

“We’ll meet Gladiolus at the start point,” Dino explained, as Prompto let go of Ignis’s hand. He swung athletically over the back of the booth seat, on the other side of Noctis. 

“Mm. Gladio’s been on the North Coast of the Cavaugh island,” Prompto replied, brushing his hair back from his forehead. It stuck up like a chocobo’s tail feathers. “Quicker for him to meet us there than come down here.” 

“You two are friends?” Noctis asked, his face turned towards Prompto. 

Prompto gave a small smile before he answered, and it was in his voice too as he spoke. “Yeah. We’ve done some stuff together. I think you’d like him.” 

“We’ll meet him this evening,” Dino explained. “It’s just a couple hours away, but we should have everything set up by the time he gets in.” 

Takka brought their food and they were silent as they dug in. The heat of the peppers in the jambalaya set his tongue and his brain aflame. Oh, he would have so much to discover on this journey. 


	4. One Survivalist

Gladio remembered Insomnia, just barely. The faint traces of his first memories. He’d had an older sister once. She was strong but gentle with him. She’d taught him basics of self defense – or at least all that a five year old should know – but she also taught him how to weave flower crowns. Gladioluses and irises and lilies, for their mother. 

He hoped she was still alive somewhere out there. He held no hope for their parents – almost no adults had escaped Insomnia nor survived the Purges afterward. But Iris… she’d been out with their mother when the attacks had happened. Gladiolus’s father had put him on a boat with other refugees bound for Lestallum and sent him away. Promising to meet with him again when he found the rest of the family. 

And he’d never heard from any of them ever again. He’d grown up strong, tough, fighting all the other boys in the orphanage. The orphaned women were trained to join the power station, the men to join the Meldaccio to be hunters. 

At sixteen, Gladiolus worked for a shop, moving boxes and stacking shelves, until he’d saved up enough money for a digicam and a sleeping bag. He’d made no effort to conceal his identity online – he was still hoping one day Iris, or whoever she was now, would see him and they could have a reunion at last. 

The more well-known he got, the more he despaired of them ever finding each other again. Sometimes his trips were for difficult Hunts, but more often they were his own curiosity. 

He’d befriended Prom, and that gave him the excuse to go back to Insomnia. To check the crumbling remains of the city that had belonged to both of them. Searched desperately for a sign that Iris had been here, had left something for him. 

The video had gone viral, but still nothing. Colemans gave him sponsorship, and all the camping equipment he needed. But still nothing from his older sister. Maybe she had died. But the wanderlust had a firm hold on him by that stage, and still he didn’t settle down. 

When DiamondDino had called him, had offered him a spot in the adventure series, he hadn’t even thought about it before agreeing. Travelling to every corner of Insomnia, on someone else’s dime, in a Diamond Production that would be more popular than anything he could produce on his own? How could he have even considered saying no? 

So he finished up his trip in the north of Cavaugh and headed down south. They were to meet in the ruined citadel, and begin their journey there. Just like the legendary king had, if the rumours of the lost PhotoEpic were to be believed. 

DiamondDino had said Prom would be there, as if that was his top selling point. He was glad to see the blond again, but that wouldn’t have made a difference to him one way or another. He’d mentioned the others, filling the roles of the other two legendary figures, but Gladio hadn’t heard of them and already forgotten their names. 

It was days to hike to the walls of the ruined city, still hazed with smoke and dust even fifteen years later. He made his way in, and slowly picked the path from the North Gate to the citadel in the centre of the city. 

Barking heralded his arrival before he came close enough to see the small crowd of people at the bottom of the cracked and scorched staircase. The dog belonged to… someone. A dark-haired small slip of a guy who sat on a foldable chair, someone fussing with his hair. Prom was there as well, laughing with his own hairdresser and snapping some digistills already. And the fourth… 

He was tall, and a refined sort of handsome. The sort of guy you could tell never did a day’s work in his lifetime and was all too patient with wardrobe as they measured and pinned and adjusted clothes on him. 

“Gladio!” Prom announced brightly, raising half-out of his chair before he was firmly re-sat by his hairdresser. “You made it!” 

“Well, someone’s gotta keep your ass outta trouble,” he teased, coming over to muss his hair and earning a glare from the hairdresser. 

From Prom, he got that unbearably sunny grin. How that guy got by without being pinned onto the nearest horizontal surface by everyone he met, Gladio would never know. Not that he himself had tried. He _had_ tried to charm his sister Cidney though, and got a surprisingly intimidating shovel talk from Prom. 

“Let me introduce you to the guys!” Prom announced, after the hairdresser had done with trimming his locks. He grabbed Gladio’s arm, made a very appreciative comment about the half-inked tattoo and the progress of his biceps, and dragged him over to the guy with the dog first. “Gladio, this is Noct. Noctis, this is my buddy Gladio. I told you about him on the drive up.” 

The blond brought their hands together so they could shake. The guy, Noctis, was blind he noticed, and his expression was uncertain as he shook. “Nice to meet you.” 

“You too,” Gladio replied absently. 

“And _this little guy_ ,” Prom began, crouching beside the dog. “Is Umbra. He’s at work right now, so he can’t befriend you, but you can let him sniff your hand.” The dog only gave Gladio a brief once over, and looked away – disinterested. Or maybe he was looking over there were the catering table was being set up with fresh fruits and cured meats. 

Once Prom had his fill of admiring the dog – which took longer than Gladio could patiently put up with – he took Gladio over to the fourth and last member of their squad. “And this is Ignis. Iggy, this is my buddy Gladio.” 

“I’ve asked you not to call me that,” Ignis replied patiently, but there was just a faint sparkle of amusement in his eyes. He looked up at Gladio and absently licked his lips. Intimidated? “It is a pleasure to meet you, Gladiolus Amicitia. I am Ignis Flauret, Fire-Cooking from MoogleTube, if you’re more familiar with handles.” 

It would be rude to say ‘ _never heard of you_ ’, right? 

He offered a hand out to shake, ignoring the spark of electricity across his palm as their fingers touched. Prickly bastard, even from contact it seemed. He grunted a greeting, and let the almost baby-soft hand drop. 

Yep. As he thought. Never done a day’s work in his life. “You’re the chef then?” 

“Quite.” This Ignis guy tucked his hand behind his back. “And you are our survivalist.” 

Before they could continue the weirdly stilted conversation, DiamondDino arrived to greet him, and talk him through the process. 

… 

“ _This_ is the car?” Prom asked eagerly. 

Gladio was less enthused. “It’s not exactly an all-terrain vehicle,” he replied, circling it critically. Sure, it was a top of the line Sponsorship car. The Regalia XV, only a few made in the world. But it would hardly do for anything less than a sealed road. 

“This baby?” Prom replied, grinning and climbing into the driver’s seat to try her out. “Don’t let her looks fool you. She’s got elevated suspension and all-wheel drive capabilities. All you gotta do is raise her up and change the wheels and she’s ready for off-roading. Aren’t you girl?” 

“Are you going to continue to address the vehicle like a living being?” Ignis asked impatiently. He was standing aside with Noctis, who was waiting and silently stroking his dog’s forehead. 

In reply to that, Prom cooed and stroked the dashboard. “Don’t listen to him, babe. I know what a gem you are.” 

“Well, I’d best drive,” Ignis replied, skipping over that entirely. “Mr Ghiranze entrusted _you_ with the majority of the camera work, Aurum. You oughtn’t be driving, you might miss an opportunity.” 

Prom slid out of the car and stood, putting his hands akimbo on his hips. “Alright, listen Iggy. This trip is gonna get old really quickly if you’re gonna be cold with us.” He tossed a lock of hair out of his eyes with a slight gesture. “I’m Prompto, or Prom. Not Aurum. This is Gladio, never Gladiolus, and never Amicitia; Gladdy if you’re feeling particularly affectionate. And—”

“Noct,” the other interrupted, speaking up for himself. “I’d prefer Noct. Or Noctis.” 

Prom beamed at him, though the blind guy couldn’t tell, and looked back at Ignis seriously. “This series is gonna suck if we _can’t get along_. Nobody is expecting us all to be bosom buddies already, but you can’t be a _snob_.”

Ignis was silent through this scolding. Geez, it was as if he’d never been told off before in his life. He gave a slight bow of assent. “I’ll do my utmost, _Prompto_.”

“Well, that’s a start.” Prompto nodded and turned back to the car. He began to fiddle with the smaller camera, setting it up on the dash just above the radio. “This is the dash-cam,” he informed them all. “A camera facing all of us as we drive, and one out the windshield to show where we’re going. Both have got SteadyCam so there won’t be shaking from the road turbulence.” He nodded to himself and then held up three identical, high definition cameras. “These are for me, and Gladio and Iggy. We can record as we see fit, and mine’s got the SteadyCam on it too.” He produced a pair of what looked like mirrored sunglasses, and carefully placed them in Noct’s hands, letting him explore them with his fingers. “This is for you, Noct. They’ll go on like sunglasses and record your point of view. No SteadyCam though, so don’t worry about them being used too much. They turn off once you’ve taken them off and folded the arms in.” 

Noct gave a grateful smile and carefully adjusted them onto his face. They hid the worst of his eye scarring, but there was some scar tissue visible underneath. 

“And, finally, a ChocoboPro for Umbra, if he’ll keep it on his harness,” Prom said, grinning adoringly at the little dog. “All the cameras will send our live feed to the Diamond Productions offices in Galdin, where he’ll have a team round-the-clock and a live director in charge of choosing which video goes where. They said twenty-four seven, but we’re allowed to point it out the window or away from the tent when we sleep. So we’ll have a little bit of privacy - but remember, don’t take cameras into the bathroom, okay? Premium subscribers can pick each camera to watch from.” 

Gladio took his camera and clipped it idly to his belt. _Crotch-cam_ he thought with quiet, private amusement. Their company phone rang, and Prompto picked it up, handing it to Noctis as he went to fit up Umbra’s harness with the ChocoboPro. 

“Uh-huh,” Noct said into the phone, then turned his head to all of them. “We’re about to go live, Dino says. He’ll put a countdown from ten on the phone.” 

Prompto hurried about, putting his camera on a tripod, and lining up a quick shot, before joining them. He told Dino they were good to go, and they put the phone down. 

Five

Four

Three

Two

One. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be longer but there’s been almost no interest or feedback so I’m gonna end it here. Thanks for reading friends!


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